


some sorts of quiet

by catpoop



Series: Sheith Month 2018 [1]
Category: Voltron: Legendary Defender
Genre: Light Angst, M/M, Panic Attacks, Post-S6, Sharing a Bed, Sheith Month 2018
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-07-01
Updated: 2018-07-01
Packaged: 2019-05-31 15:10:55
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 722
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15122111
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/catpoop/pseuds/catpoop
Summary: Sheith Month '18 - 1/7: TrustTheir mutual recovery will come slowly, Keith knows, but he's not about to give up.





	some sorts of quiet

**Author's Note:**

> whoa lets see how many prompts i can fill this year

Inevitably, they get to _this_ – once Shiro’s gotten used to having a physical form again and they’re both adequately rested. They have yet to find a substitute ship, but landing the lions in an inconspicuous spot on an ally planet is enough for now.

Keith shifts in the narrow cot, nestled against Shiro’s arm as the man snoozes softly. The bleached strands of his fringe flutter with each breath and Keith carefully brushes them off his face. At his touch, Shiro frowns, stretches with a muffled yawn, and slowly opens his eyes.

Keith fondly meets his gaze.

“Mornin’.” Shiro’s voice is a croak.

“It’s probably more like late afternoon,” Keith reminds him. They’d both fallen asleep after lunch, basking in the warmth of relative peace and a full belly.

“Good afternoon, then.” Shiro smiles, propping himself up on one side.

Keith stretches to press a kiss to the tip of his nose, mindful of how his breath probably doesn’t smell the best after the longest nap he’s had in a while. But Shiro leans in where he leaves off, capturing his lips with a fervour he’s missed during his time with the Blades.

“Missed you.”

“Missed you too,” Shiro mumbles in agreement, pressing himself further into Keith’s space so all he can think about is the heady feeling of being trapped against Shiro’s bulk. One hand reaches to push up Shiro’s loose shirt while his other scrabbles a rhythm against the warm skin of his revealed neck.

The stump of Shiro’s right arm twitches as if to do the same, but Keith tries not to give it too much thought, easing back into the sensations as Shiro presses him more fully into the mattress, left arm straining to keep him stable. His chin is a little rough with stubble under Keith’s fingertips, his nose a graceful arch, and his eyelids fluttering in rapid motion. 

Keith opens his eyes just as Shiro peers down at him, watches first in confusion then in realisation as his pupils dilate to empty pools and fear twists his brow and constricts the muscles of his remaining arm. He gasps, and it’s a raw painful sound.

“Shi –”

Keith cuts off with a sudden yelp as Shiro collapses crushingly on top of him, arm giving out. He rolls off just as quickly, landing on his back, but it makes the rapid rise and fall of his chest all the more obvious, the way his shivering shakes the thin but sturdy bed frame beneath them. Keith immediately sits upright, smoothing his palms over the firm clench of Shiro’s jaw and worriedly peering at the distant look in his eyes.

“Shiro! Shiro, come back to me.” It’s only a flashback, Keith suspects, but fear throbs pounding in his heart at how Shiro had lost control _last time_. “Takashi, please…”

His fingertips rub stressed circles into the tense muscles of Shiro’s shoulder, above the fluttering in his chest, and the tension in his curled fist. Shiro doesn’t relax, but nor does he lash out (Keith thinks of bruises and lancing pain and the always guilt-laden aftermath), instead shaking, as if trapped in stasis and struggling to get free. It’s because of this that Keith dares to splay himself over Shiro’s chest, tightly hugging his sides and murmuring nonsense into his ears.

The counting works the best in the end, each of Shiro’s inhales and exhales solidifying into a rhythm until he resurfaces with a gasp and the tension leaches out from his limbs. Keith pulls his head away from the warm spot against Shiro’s neck and watches as grey eyes flutter tentatively open.

“Hey,” Keith tries to smile, tone light.

“I-I’m sorry,” Shiro whispers. “It was the – the fight the memories just – I’m sorry, god –”

“It’s okay, it’s okay, it’s okay,” Keith reassures, even though he knows it’s not such a simple fix and the both of them will be plagued with these memories for years to come. He helps Shiro sit upright, presses a light kiss to his damp forehead, and silently decides against continuing their previous fooling around.

What Shiro needs right now is a good hug and Keith wastes no time curling himself around the man.

Shiro meets his eyes with newborn fragility. “You trust me?”

“Of course I do.”

Shiro’s look of gratitude warms him to the core.

**Author's Note:**

> yeah i cant write anything longer than 1000 words now but Deal With It


End file.
